Bad By Myself ✔️

21. Steelo

You know how I do,
And you know how I flow.
Can I get your name and number,
'Cause I like your steelo.
And I dig the way you move,
And the way you do your thing.
Baby you can bring it on,
If you can swing it this way.
-702

Balancing two guys was going to be hard but she was up for the challenge. She had to keep Craig away from the A, and Spitfire in the A. Spitfire didn't travel as much as she had to, he worked with his artists where he was. Sometimes he traveled for meetings and to meet new artists or conduct other business, but he was in Atlanta for the most part.

Craig and Fact Iz were everywhere. They were hip hop royalty now. People giving them mad respect. They attended all the celeb parties and even celebs were fan-crushing on them.

Craig was having his twenty-first birthday party in L.A. and he was getting turnt. Petite Trois was there, but there were so many other celebs she felt faded to the background. Craig was popping bottles and drinking straight from them. Fact Iz had more females looking like strippers at the party she felt like she was at Bottoms Up. Chicks were all over him she barely got to say hello to him. It made her feel some kind of way.

She grabbed her third flute of champagne when M'Liyah came over to her.

"Umm, this party is too live for me. I think I'm heading back to the hotel. You staying?"

She looked over at Craig with a barrage of women, she wondered if he even noticed her there.

"Girl, I know you were feeling Cra-C, just go over there and talk to him."

M'Liyah didn't know what she was talking about and she better stay out of grown people's business. Why did she even come to the party, it was too hip hop for her.

"I ain't worried about that lil boy," she said, but she was. She was going to give him a piece of her mind, but she did not want to cause a scene.

"Okay, well, I'm leaving. I have a driver waiting for me. I think Mel is still here. She's still in her mood."

She could care less about M'Liyah or Melodie right now. Her man was over there acting as if she did not exist. It was bad enough she went a year and a half undercover with Spitfire, now this? Over him? She was the superstar, not him.

She downed her glass of champagne but she needed something stronger. She went to the bar to order a drink.

"Amerreto sour," she ordered. "I need to get wasted."

"Ha! Girl, if you want to get wasted, don't order that baby shit," she heard a woman say beside her. "Bartender, get her a shot of Patron."

She looked at her. Holy heck! It was the legendary Bonnie Walker. Bonnie was an international superstar, model turned actress, and sometimes singer. She had been famous since the age of thirteen when she was discovered in Los Angeles. That was thirteen years ago because now she was twenty-six and still looked dropped dead gorgeous. Standing at five-eleven, all legs, long, straight hair to her waist, all hers due to her mixed heritage of Black and Asian. She was stunning, every man's dream. Even every woman's dream.

If she was going to switch it up and get with a girl, Bonnie Walker it would be.

"He-ey! Bonnie Walker, OMG, I'm such a fan. Sheesh, Imma lose my shit over you standing right here with me."

"Aw, that's so sweet," she said, grabbing a salt shaker. "Here, let me show you how to drink this. Take the salt, lick your hand, put the salt on there, got it?"

She followed what she told her to do.

"We lick the salt, take the shot, and chase it with a lime."